ManFlu
by FlyingFishWithWings
Summary: Anakin Skywalker may be a great, accomplished Jedi Leader, but there is one thing that even he can't handle – the dreaded 'Man-Flu'. Padme's romantic evening doesn't go exactly as she planned.


_A/N: Just a quick one-shot I typed up on a lazy afternoon (all in one go, a rarity for me!). I think there are moments like this in any marriage, really... _

_Anyway, read and drop me a review if you liked it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. And as always, none of this is mine, it all belongs to the Great Bearded One._

_**Man-Flu**_

**Anakin Skywalker may be a great, accomplished Jedi Leader, but there is one thing that even he can't handle – the dreaded 'Man-Flu'. Padme's romantic evening doesn't go exactly as she planned.**

**88888888**

Padmé Amidala Skywalker sat alone, waiting, in the opulent apartment she shared with her husband, acclaimed Jedi Anakin Skywalker. Scented Wildberry candles, exclusive to a small health shop on her homeworld of Naboo, flickered brightly, casting a warm glow to illuminate the dim room and emitting a delicious scent that reminded Padmé of the meadow at Varykino.

Padmé had received word from her husband that he was returning home to Coruscant after a particularly long and gruelling mission with Obi-Wan Kenobi, on some Force-forsaken planet in the Outer Rim. She was awaiting his return with a little surprise for him – a romantic one at that.

She had prepared a small meal for the two of them; a platter of different varieties of Shurra fruit, a bottle of Anakin's favourite (and very expensive) wine, and some luscious chocolates that she knew her husband particularly enjoyed.

To top it all off, she herself was a visual treat. Dressed in a sheer, white, beaded silk nightgown, which accentuated her slim physique in all the right places, and a spritz of the perfume Anakin had gifted her on their most recent wedding anniversary, Padmé looked stunning. She had a feeling her husband would appreciate her efforts to put together this evening.

There was a buzz at the door, heralding Anakin's return. Padmé smiled to herself, her body tingling with anticipation. She remained where she was, waiting for Anakin to come and claim his surprise.

She waited. And waited… and waited some more. Finally, she got irritated with waiting, wondering what in Force's name was delaying her husband. She'd heard him come in, after all. What was he doing?

She frowned and went to the entrance hall, expecting to find him there, but she found the hall devoid of any Jedi. _Where in Sith's Hell has that man got to? _Padmé thought with some frustration.

"Anakin?" she called out. No answer. She tried again. "Ani? Where are you?"

It was then that she heard a cough emit from their bedroom. _Anakin? _She wondered. Peering her head around their bedroom door, Padme was surprised to find Anakin lying sprawled on their large bed, eyes closed, still clothed in all of his Jedi garb, even his heavy boots.

"Anakin?" she asked cautiously, remaining where she was in the doorway.

He emitted a small moan, but did not stir. Padmé was suddenly filled with concern for her husband. What if he had been seriously injured during the mission?

"Anakin!" she gasped, rushing to him and sitting beside him where he lay unmoving on the bed. "Anakin, my love, are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you ok? You're not injured, are you?"

Anakin opened his eyes and looked up at her as she fussed over him, checking to see if he was hurt or not. "Padmé…," he moaned hoarsely. "Don't get too close Padmé! I'm dying…"

"What?" Padmé stopped fussing and looked at him, startled.

"I'm sick. I'm dying…," he repeated, coughing a few times and then his eyes slipped closed again.

"How can you be dying?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Like I said, I'm sick," he stated, with a cough thrown in to emphasise his point. Padmé gave him a quick once-over. He didn't look like he was dying. In fact, he didn't even look extremely ill, only a slight flush in his cheeks. Every now and then he would emit a groan or two, sounding like a baby Shaak that had been separated from its mother.

Padmé sighed and caressed his cheek. "I'll go get the thermometer".

On her way to the medicine cabinet in the 'fresher that stored the thermometer, Padme returned to the living room. She blew out the Wildberry candles with a sigh. Apparently this wasn't going to be the romantic night she'd envisioned for them at all.

**88888888**

"Padmé, I need to go to the medicentre!"

"Anakin, my love, you are barely even running a temperature," Padmé replied, stroking his forehead with an amused smile.

"That thermometer must be broken then," Anakin declared sulkily, and Padmé had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He seemed more like the little boy from Tatooine right now, rather than the big strong Jedi she was married to.

"The thermometer works perfectly fine, Ani. You're not dying, you just have a cold, is all," Padmé told him softly.

He didn't look as though he believed her at all. "Padmé, you can't _feel _how I'm _feeling _right now!" he protested, and Padmé simply rolled her eyes.

"Ok, Ani. Whatever you say. Would you like me to get you a cup of tea?"

He nodded, and she got up to make her favourite brew from Naboo. Hopefully that would make him feel a little less like he was 'dying'.

"Padmé?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning back to him, as he lay there cocooned in blankets.

"You look absolutely gorgeous in that nightgown".

Padmé smiled warmly at him, and made her way to the kitchen.

**88888888**

Anakin sipped the fragrant tea slowly, smiling at his wife as she sat on the bed beside him.

"Feel any better?" she asked, as he drained the small china cup and set it beside him on the wooden bedside table.

" 'Spose so," he admitted, taking her hand. "Sorry we couldn't have our evening together, Angel. I want you -of course I do - you look even more beautiful than usual if possible, and I've missed you so much. It's just that with my intense illness, I don't want you to get sick too..."

"Yes, I wouldn't want to catch your ahh... 'intense illness'," she agreed. She looked at him with a loving smile. "It's ok, Ani. There's a thousand more evenings we can spend like that. I love you, and the only thing I want right now is for you to get better".

"I love you too, Padmé, always," Anakin replied softly, running a hand through her luxuriant curls, and putting his arm around her, pulling her close.

They stayed like that in silence for a while, just enjoying the feel of being close to each other again after many weeks of separation. The sound of Anakin's Com-Link going off jarred Padmé from her state of near slumber. She leant over Anakin to pick up his thick, black, Jedi robe and retrieved the ridiculously noisy Com-Link from one of the pockets, wrapping herself in his robe too, as she was dressed in quite risqué attire.

She pressed the answer button and was greeted by small blue holograms of both Obi-Wan and Anakin's Padawan Ahsoka. "Hello, Senator," they chimed in unison.

"Hello," she replied with a smile.

"Anakin's still ill, I take it," said Obi-Wan, a look of concern clouding his face. "He looked deathly ill when we landed back on Coruscant..."

Padmé bit her lip. So it wasn't just Anakin Skywalker who over-reacted with a simple touch of the flu, it was _all _men. She felt slightly better, knowing her husband wasn't the only major hypochondriac in the Galaxy.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Padmé replied, looking over at Anakin, who had been woken by the Com-Link and the conversation, and stroking his arm.

"I think he's over-reacting just a little," said Ahsoka with a grin, voicing out loud Padme's internal opinion.

"No I'm not, Snips," Anakin stated. "You may very well need a new Master".

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "You've got Man-Flu, that's for sure". Padmé coughed to cover her laugh.

"What's that?" Anakin asked, frowning.

"Oh, nothing. Get better soon, Sky-Guy," replied Ahsoka hastily.

"Yes, get better soon, Anakin," agreed Obi-Wan, and then both Jedi bowed and the Com-Link flickered out.

"Ahsoka sure is outspoken," Anakin mused, as he put the Com-Link away in the drawer of the bedside table.

"And where do you think she gets it from?" Padmé responded with a laugh. Anakin smiled sheepishly at her, then lay down and closed his eyes.

"Get some rest, Ani, you will be better soon," Padmé whispered, kissing her husband's forehead and dimming the bedroom lights. He emitted a small snore, and she smiled as she closed the door behind her, sneaking one last look at her beloved, hypochondriac, husband.

_**FIN**_


End file.
